oxygen mask, or learning the art of self-care

I have never been great at self-care. I forget to plan meals and then, when famished, end up eating whatever I can wrangle together or really late at night. Or just don't remember to eat. I pick up clothing off of the floor, smell it, and if it's not too bad, wear it. For a long time I didn't shave, wear make-up, spend a whole lot of time shopping for clothing that fit properly or that I liked.

That has all be slowly changing. This week alone, I plunked down some money on a sexy, sparkly bra and panty number and had serious hair removal done. No, I'm not doing some form of extreme DIY self-makeover. I've been working myself up to this since April, I think.

It started with shaving my legs. I had this inner conflict - the angry feminist in me abhorred the idea of shaving off hair for someone else's titillation; the natural earth mama in me wanted to honor the naturalness of my body; the environmentalist/economist in me wanted to avoid using a whole lot of products; and the rebel in me just wanted to be different.

Wait, I take that back. It started when I started culinary school, with the simple act of wearing make-up. I wanted to look nice and professional in my uniform, and I knew how wearing make-up made me feel - there's a reason they call it a mask! So, I got in the habit of wearing make-up more, as well as general facial care. A lot of my blemishes (mostly self-imposed, I'm a zit-picker) decreased greatly as a result of both wearing make-up and the fact that touching one's face is a no-no in the kitchen (unless you want to be constantly washing your hands!).

But that was pretty much it, until I started considering shaving my legs and armpits. Finally, I decided to sanction the posse in my head on grounds that they were not considering how I felt. It feels good to shave. Well, not the act itself so much as the result. I like how my skin feels, I am not self-conscious that people are looking at me, thinking how gross my unshaven legs are. So I decided that I was going to do it for that reason alone - because I wanted to, because I liked it.

Up next was clothing, but only because I'd lost so much weight that my pants were uncomfortable to wear cinched around my waist, and I didn't feel sexy in them anymore. And it's important for me to feel sexy and attractive, since I am, after all dating (around), and it's important for me to feel confident. Fortunately, I had a few pairs of pre-pregnancy jeans in the bottom of my drawer. But then I had to get a pair of black pants for my graduation. So I found two I liked, and bought them both.

Also, as a result of the weight loss, I needed new undergarments, specifically, bras. Because I knew how much fun he'd have, I invited D. to shop for these things with me. Of course, I regretted it the moment we walked into the store. I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. The angry feminist was pissed because of the tiny plastic mannequins made her feel insecure again, as shopping of most kinds generally do. But D. wasn't going to let me get away with making another excuse to not shop, and we finally found some things I found tolerable (I find animal print and pink to be both aesthetically atrocious and utterly annoying), tried them on, felt sexy, and away I went, with my purchases.

At this point, I may have reached a "if you're going to do it, you might as well go all the way" mentality; I tried on the sexy panties and realized that there was some serious trimming that needed to happen, and since all other voices were quashed, posed a query on FB for a place to get waxed (again, with the "go big or go home" attitude!), decided to go with sugaring instead, based on a referral from a friend who I refer to as the queen of self-care, C. (so much I can and am learning from her, and she probably doesn't even know it) and booked the appointment.

I feel good. There are some voices who are trying to rise up with the guilt trip, but for now I'm ignoring them - saving them for a good session with S., perhaps. I've never been this "high maintenance" and I did warn D. that I was probably going to become a little high maintenance as I find balance, because I'm the kind of person who has to go to extremes in order to figure that out.

It's not that I think that I have to do all these things to feel good, some of them I knew already made me feel good, the shaving, the make-up, the sexy bras. Others, I have to try on for size to know. For the most part, though, as I spend more time focussing on caring for my body, the better I feel about it. It feels as though it as an act of love. And it helps me share that love with others more readily.

I often think about the oxygen mask analogy - you know, on the airplane, where they say to put your mask on first before assisting a child or someone who's having trouble. These things are my oxygen mask. I've been so deprived of oxygen, however, that I've needed several good inhalations to clear my head well enough to then focus on helping others.

Up next? Botanical Body Wrap? Hot stone massage? Sounds fun and relaxing, but I think I need to focus on getting my diet under control (and I don't mean a special diet, just the act of eating regular nourishing meals). And there's a whole other posse in my head that has opinions to weigh in on this...